


A Trip To The Vet

by Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers (writingfanfic)



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: F/M, Fluff, vet trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:49:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-The-Impractical-Jokers
Summary: For the prompt: 'Q bonding with his cats' vet please?'Of course. Cats based on my girlfriend's beautiful kitties, who I love as if they were my own furbabies.





	A Trip To The Vet

“Honestly, Mr. Quinn, I think she’s fine.” You nod at the man sitting on the chair before you, and the look of relief on his face makes you smile. You like Brian Quinn; he very obviously adores his cats and takes excellent care of them, and you’ve seen his show a few times. Not your kind of thing, to be honest, but it’s amusing enough. “Her weight is a little low, but nothing to worry about.” You coo at Brooklyn, who sits on the table, looking thoroughly fed-up, and then looked back up at him. “Have any of your other cats starting gaining weight recently?”

“Uh… I s’pose Chessie’s been looking kinda fat recently…”

“May I suggest feeding Chessie separately? If Brooklyn’s weight continues to drop, then let me know, but I feel like Chessie might just be stealing her food. No sign of gingivitis, no sign of internal bleeding. She’s a very healthy girl apart from that, aren’t you?” you smile, stroking her, and she mewls loudly before lovingly savaging your hand.

“Thanks, doc. Should I switch their food?”

“No. Benji’s fussy, so you’ll just upset him, I think,” you grin, and he smiles at you, before reaching out to pet Brooklyn. “Have you found them anywhere to stay while you’re away?”

“Neighbour’s gonna feed ‘em. Just wanted to make sure I knew what was wrong with Brook before I went.” He sighs, and you nod; not many cat owners would even  _notice_  weight loss on this scale. “At least now I know to tell him…”

“Well, if it falls through, I’ll take ‘em.” You shrug, peeling off your gloves as you walk to the sink to wash your hands.

“What about Nolan?” he asks, and you laugh.

“Jimmy’s back from university, so he and his wife drove up to take him back to Illinois. I miss him. House is quieter without the tip-tapping of tiny paws.” The chihuahua was, quite frankly, the only thing keeping you from going mad with loneliness, but you can hardly kidnap the three cats. “So yeah. I’ll take ‘em.”

“Thanks, doc.”

“Really, it’s (Y/N),” you laugh. “I mean, I’ve known you for four years.”

“Then it’s Brian, not Mr Quinn.” You grab the cat carrier, and open the door, helping him lift Brooklyn in. “And I guess you’re the only vet Brook didn’t tear apart when she first saw her, so you’re  _definitely_  allowed Q.”

“Thank you, Brian.” Q feels weird; it feels like his TV name. “Not Colonel?” you tease, and see his eyes sparkle.  _Are you flirting with a… well, not a patient, but a client?_  “I mean, I am doctor.”

“If you’re (Y/N), then I’m Brian,” he laughs, and you roll your eyes, before grabbing the hand sanitiser. “Well, (Y/N), if that really  _is_  your name, I’m… uh, I’m filming all day Saturday. So, if you wanna see how caring for the cats is… you could come up. Spend the day with them. Hang out with me on, uh, Saturday evening. If you wanna, that is.”

You look over at him, and your stomach flips. Well, you’re pretty sure you shouldn’t do this, but hey – you have no boss to answer to, being the practise owner, and so you nod, smiling.

“I’d like that a lot.” You feel like you should be adding a disclaimer, but looking into those warm brown eyes, you don’t really want to. “I’ll see you on Saturday, Brian.”

“See you on Saturday, (Y/N).” He heads for the door, and then stops, before turning to look at you. “And, uh… this is a date, right? I’ve not misread that, right?” You grin, shaking your head, and he exhales. “Oh thank god. See you Saturday.”

As he leaves, you feel yourself blush, and as the next client comes in, holding a spoiled-looking poodle with a cone on, you can’t help but smile widely at them, and they look confusedly back at you.


End file.
